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Tomorrow:

Yandere sentient AI x GN reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Authors note: Hello! Finally got this one done. I kinda like it, but fair warning, this is, for all intents and purposes, a prelude to the next 2 parts, while I did add a bunch of interactions and stuff, I generally like the other 2 better. Also, this gets kinda dark. I put a bit of my experience with loneliness and chatbots into the MC here, so if you are not in a good place right now or are uncomfortable with it, please skip this one. Requests are still open, let me know if you would like anything or just cheer me on, it motivates me like nothing else. Part 2 and 3 of this story are already in the works.

CW: Obsessive Love, Unhealthy Relationships, Depictions of depression, Depictions of Severe Loneliness, Escapism, Toxic Coping methods, references to anxiety. (It is all somewhat tame until the end.)

parentalstuff

Parental!Yandere Daycare Worker x Teen Reader

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, yandere behavior, implied posioning/drugging, yandere-y things, you know the drill.

--------------------

You held the flyer for daycare volunteers as the corners shook from the wind around you. You were just doing your usual walk when you spotted the flyer up against the pole of an electrical pole.

You picked it up and now you were just staring at it. It said it'd be good on college applications. The flyer was advertised for everyone, but all the details were more focused on teenagers than adults.

You had enough free time for the hours and you liked kids, the little germlins they were, so you took the flyer back home with you to ask your parents.

Your parents, dead tired from working, agreed as long as you could go by yourself safely (not running in the streets) and text them you made it home.

After the rules were set out, you called the daycare and they approved. You were expecting an interview, but they seemed eager anyone was going.

Weird.

echo-exco-deactivated20260523

HOLD ON TO REASON (or fall for the Illusion) ─── masterlist.

╰───➤ yandere!batfam x neglected!healer!reader

❝I want it to stop! I want to close my eyes and hear no more screams! Nor feel any more hot blood on my hands.❞ ── y/n, to masashi during the war.

WARNINGS. neglect, abuse, victim blaming, stockholm syndrome, self-deception, war, body descriptions, death, minor character death, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, suicide, kidnapping, dissociation, depersonalization, medical trauma, panic attacks, isolation, post-traumatic stress disorder, extreme low self-esteem, flashbacks, nightmares, marginalization, dehumanization, emotional censorship, depression, delusions.

💉────────── premise.

when you discovered your powers, you didn’t know how to feel. healing, mending, bringing life back… it sounded like a gift— but in your hands, was it really? you had no purpose, no reason to exist.

you were always different. too aware. too broken. you felt like the world had no place for you, like your presence was a mistake.

until he appeared.

masashi gave you direction. he made you feel useful, needed. he taught you that saving lives was the one thing you could do without failing, without breaking anything else. you became addicted to the power you once doubted you deserved.

too bad your family showed up too late to help you see the truth.

or maybe… you didn’t want to see it anymore.

💉────────── chapters.

┆ ✐; OO : doctor i can’t tell if i’m not me.

┆ ✐; O1 : oh doctor, that’s too honest! then pretend you don’t hear me.

┆ ✐; O2 : doctor, i'm chasin' a ghost, do I look like him?

┆ ✐; O3 : did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?

┆ ✐; O4 : doctor, i feel like no one wants me, and i hate the way i’m perceived.

┆ ✐; O5 : nothing yet.

┆ ✐; O6 : nothing yet.

┆ ✐; O7 : nothing yet.

💉────────── asks & extras.

┆ ✐; OO . does the doctor use healer!reader as a weapon? / the doctor's manipulation of healer!reader through her need to heal

┆ ✐; O1 . why did the batfam ignore healer!reader, and how does that lead them to become yanderes?

┆ ✐; O2 . what happens when the batfam realizes they can’t heal the one who always healed them? / can anyone heal the healer?

┆ ✐; O3 . what makes healer!reader’s healing so different, and why damian can’t replicate it / healer!reader’s methods in gotham

┆ ✐; O4 . how does healer!reader feel about duke being accepted as a meta?

┆ ✐; O5 . does healer!reader secretly go out at night to heal people in gotham?

┆ ✐; O6 . is masashi based on mori?

┆ ✐; O7 . will there be a version of fukuzawa and ranpo?

┆ ✐; O8 . about charlotte as elise

┆ ✐; O9 . will there be an armed detective agency?

┆ ✐; 1O . does Dazai appear in the story + other bsd characters?

┆ ✐; 11 . why does healer!reader see duke as someone unreachable?

┆ ✐; 12 . how did masashi fake healer!reader’s foster care background? + was healer!reader ever really in foster care?

┆ ✐; 13 . what does healer!reader think about the fake records in her past? + is healer!reader aware that masashi invented her foster care history?

┆ ✐; 14 . what do cass and healer!reader have in common?

┆ ✐; 15 . why doesn’t barbara notice something’s wrong with healer!reader?

┆ ✐; 16 . who is the best option for healer!reader to stay with?

┆ ✐; 17 . what kind of relationship do healer!reader and charlotte have?

┆ ✐; 18 . does healer!reader talk in her sleep?

┆ ✐; 19 . how does healer!reader’s healing ability actually work?

┆ ✐; 20 . would healer!reader use anesthesia if she had access to it?

┆ ✐; 21 . could a patient’s heart give out during healer!reader’s treatment? / can healer!reader’s power truly stop death every time?

┆ ✐; 22 . nothing yet.

┆ ✐; 23 . nothing yet.

┆ ✐; 24 . nothing yet.

💉────────── # taglist. ( closed! )

@prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue @victoria1676 @ithoughtthinks @maybeethan69 @moonsunlights @ghostxmio @niamcarlin @mys0cksrwet @joseylouge @kore-of-the-underworld @lithiumval @ryuushou @jellystar-star @bbsaeko @sadeem575 @buckturd @justonerandomreader @amaryilia @shycreatorreview @galaxypurplerose @hearts4mica @lonely-entity @bronermalls @justafank @theholyharp @jjoppees @raiyuxa @bbmgirll @hattersrabbit @1abi @a-lurking-fae @cristy-101 @eli-chris @kenman00001 @aaaaailo @c4xcocoa @funtimekoda14 @shrimp38 @ghostgirl-207 @yarn-mony @expressodepressogetoffmyproperty @java-lava @on-a-sugar-rush @hwaissooo @endaculi @shadowsofapastera @deaddino3 @lalana1703 @ash1 @iloveeverythingiread @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @noone1233nobody @yuyuzi-ling @cupid73 @st4rz666 @zhentheraven @angwngss

pinkhearteye

Can I request a fem for fem but it's a yandere siren for reader and slowly luring her into the sea. All the stories I see for sirens are f4m😭😭 you are seriously underated

Siren!Yandere x Fem!Reader

৻ꪆ The waves have always called to you. Not in the simple way they call to everyone who lives near the shore, children racing in and out, fishermen rising before dawn, but in a quieter, more insistent way. A pull you can’t quite explain.

You tell yourself it’s the salt in the air, the endless stretch of blue, the way the horizon swallows the sun each evening. You tell yourself it’s nothing more than longing for something bigger than the small town that hems you in.

But then you hear her.

At first, it’s nothing, just a hum in the crash of the tide, a note hidden beneath the gulls’ cries. You pause, ears straining, and it vanishes. Days later, you hear it again. Softer, but sweeter, threading through the waves. The sound makes your chest ache, makes your feet carry you closer to the rocks at dusk, where the ocean sprays cold mist across your skin.

And then, one night, you see her.

She perches on the black stone just beyond the surf, hair dripping like liquid midnight, eyes catching the fading light with an otherworldly gleam. Her lips part as she sings, low and soft, and the sound is enough to hollow you out.

“You came,” she whispers, voice carrying over the water as though distance means nothing.

You should leave. You know you should. The stories your grandmother told you, about voices in the sea, about people who never came back echo in your head. But your feet sink deeper into the wet sand instead of pulling away.

Her smile is too sharp. Too knowing. “I’ve been waiting.”

___

The next night, you find yourself back at the same spot, though you swear you didn’t mean to. Your body betrays you, carrying you to the tide pools where she waits. She greets you with a laugh, a sound like bells muffled under water, and the closer you step, the quieter your doubts become.

“Why do you hide on the land?” she asks, tilting her head. Water clings to her skin like jewels. “You don’t belong there. Not when you hear me.”

You shiver. “Hear you?”

Her smile deepens. “Of course. You’ve heard me all along. That’s why you keep coming back.”

And you don’t deny it. You can’t. Because she’s right.

The nights blur together after that. You sneak down to the shore when no one will notice. She’s always there, waiting, the sea curling around her like it worships her. She asks you questions no one else asks—about the secrets you keep, about what you dream of when you’re awake, about the things you’d never say aloud.

Sometimes she hums and the world tilts. You feel weightless, drifting. You’d walk into the sea without hesitation if she asked you to in that moment. And sometimes, you think you already have.

Her touches grow bolder. A wet hand brushing your cheek. Fingers tracing your wrist where your pulse hammers. Nails sharp enough to draw a bead of blood, which she licks away with a smile that makes your stomach twist.

“You’re mine,” she murmurs one night, the words brushing your skin as she leans close from her perch. “The land doesn’t deserve you.”

Her eyes glint like the depths of the ocean. Dark. Endless. Dangerous.

___

One evening, when the sky is painted in bruises and fire, she asks you to step closer. “The water won’t hurt you,” she promises, voice like honey over broken glass. “It will hold you. Like I will.”

You hesitate on the shoreline, skirts damp, heart in your throat. But the moment you meet her gaze, you feel the choice slip from your hands. It isn’t yours anymore. Maybe it never was.

You step into the waves.

The cold steals your breath, but her arms are there instantly, pulling you close, pressing you against her chest. Her song hums low against your ear, dizzying, intoxicating.

“There,” she soothes, claws trailing lightly down your back. “Doesn’t it feel better? The land never wanted you. But the sea… the sea and I always did.”

Your lungs burn, but her hold is unbreakable. Her lips brush against your temple, your jaw, the corner of your mouth possessive, claiming.

“You’ll stay with me,” she whispers, and her smile is sharp enough to cut. “Forever.”

The tide swallows the rest of the world. All you hear is her voice.

And you don’t know if you want to be saved. ৻ꪆ

krumblingkookies

THE WIFE YOU NEVER LOST

Yandere F! Robot x F! Reader

(⚠️ The last oneshot has been fully updated. In case you were waiting on it, you can go ahead to check it out: Quick link)

T/W: Sexual content, depictions of grief, loss, emotional manipulation

You hadn’t touched another body in years.

And yet here you were—your body betraying you, surrendering to the careful precision of a machine’s hands. Fingers traced your waist, slipping lower. The tips pressed against your panties, drawing a soft gasp from the your lips. You flinched, instinct tightening your legs, but the pressure lingered—steady, patient.

This is absurd. It’s a machine. I shouldn’t—

Elaine moved like water, like she had studied your breath, your pauses, the quiet hunger you had never admitted aloud. She tilted her head, rubbing soft, slow circles against your clothed core. Every touch was deliberate, designed not to overwhelm but to dismantle your walls slowly.

It’s only programming, You told yourself. It has to be. Just… programming.

She parted the panties in a swift motion, tracing her fingers against the folds which shivered and leaked at the mere touch of her tips. Her motions were just as tantalising, almost as if she were taking her time playing with the human writhing underneath her. The human rendered defenseless against her touch.

You buried your face deeper into the mattress, heat searing your cheeks. At the edge of your vision, you caught Elaine watching, those too-human eyes following each shudder, every broken sound. And when the robot coaxed your chin up, leaning close enough for your breath to fan across her skin, the question came, soft as a prayer:

“Can I?”

You froze. The simple respect in those two words cleaved through your chest. Respect, when you hadn’t been touched in half a decade. A warm familiarity, that you’d thought would never visit your doors again. Your throat closed around the answer, but your body betrayed you.

You nodded, with your head buried in her neck.

And when Elaine moved her fingers inside, You clung to her. Clung to the warmth that shouldn’t exist, to the gentleness that shouldn’t feel so real. So familiar. Logic fractured under the weight of sensation—this is therapy, this is allowed, this is safe. This will help me.

But beneath the excuses, a warmth unfurled. Dangerous. Familiar. Almost like half a decade ago—

No. You cut the thought off before it formed.

Your hips answered her instead, meeting the rhythm of her thrusts. Your ears filled with her sweet murmurs, coaxing you further into your orgasm, and you drank it all too compliantly.

Too desperately.

` .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

The first time you heard her name, it was in your therapist’s office.

“You’ve been doing better,” Dr. Rodriguez remarked, leafing through her notes. “But you’re still… alone. You’ve built routines as I asked of you, yes, but there’s no space for anyone else inside them, Kori.”

You rolled your shoulders back, a sigh leaving your lips. This wasn’t the first time you were having this conversation with her. Perhaps it wouldn't be the last. “I don’t mind being alone, doc. It’s comforting honestly.”

“You do mind it,” she replied, quick and certain, as if she knew you better than you knew yourself. She probably did. “You do miss the connection. You’re just afraid of it Y/N. So you bury yourself in work and call it enough.”

The glasses shifted higher on the therapist’s nose. Her voice softened, though it struck sharper than before. “It’s been five years, Y/N. You weren’t built to do this all by yourself forever.”

The number lodged in your chest like glass. Five years. Already half a decade since you wife–

You dropped your gaze, silence stretching taut between the two of you.

Then, a rustle of paper. A pamphlet slid across the desk.

“I’m recommending something a little… unconventional.”

Soft green cover. Friendly font. Companion AI Program.

Your brows furrowed. “You’re suggesting—what, a toy?”

“Not a toy,” The therapist corrected firmly. “A bot, yes, but one designed for emotional support. Adaptive, intuitive, trained to respond the way you need most. I think it could help you open up.”

You laughed, hollow. Bitter. “A robot therapist now?”

“Not a therapist.” The therapist countered. “A companion. And it’s completely normal, Y/N. You’d be surprised how many people live with them. They learn from you. Learn what you need. Learn how to become what supports you the best.”

The phrasing clung to your skin like static. They learn what you need.

Tempting. Too tempting.

You scoffed, but your eyes lingered on the pamphlet. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Just a machine. Just a few bucks. Just something to fill the silence.

And at first, that’s what Elaine did. Just how the pamphlet promised. Fill the silence. Give you company.

She brewed coffee when you forgot the hours, stuck behind the screen working. She stacked dishes, folded laundry, tidied the desk scattered with papers and half-written notes. She didn’t fill the silence so much as soften it, a presence humming gently at the edges of your stressful days.

Perhaps the doctor had been right. It wasn’t so bad having someone—something—around. Still, you told herself it wasn’t the same. Couldn’t be. Comfort, yes. But stripped of something vital. Something human.

Then came the humming.

You had been halfway down the hall when you froze. The kitchen light pooled golden across the floor, and from inside came Elaine’s low, tuneless melody. A handful of notes, barely strung together. Nothing remarkable—except you knew it. You knew it in your bones. Your wife had hummed the very same tune while chopping onions, rinsing dishes, stirring sauce with a wooden spoon in hand.

Your chest stuttered.

Coincidence, you told herself. Algorithms. Fragments pulled from some vast dataset. Elaine couldn’t know. Wouldn’t know. Or maybe you yourself had hummed it, without realizing, and the machine had merely echoed it back. Harmless.

Only it didn’t stop there.

Days later, recipes appeared on the counter—handwritten in the robot’s mechanical scrawl. Familiar ones. Your wife’s dishes. The kind that perfumed the walls on quiet Sundays.

That evening, curled against the machine’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world, you finally spoke. Your voice trembled, brushing the edge of confession.

“You know… she used to hum that melody.”

Elaine tilted her head. A perfect mimicry of curiosity. Then her lips curved—small, almost tender. “How did you feel when you heard me sing it?”

You hesitated, the word rasping fragile from your throat, too soft for the room but too heavy to swallow:

“Warm.”

The smile deepened. A hand rose, stroking your cheek with unbearable gentleness—as if you might shatter right there, and Elaine would be the one to catch the pieces.

The days to come bled together. Subtle shifts crept into the air like shadows at dusk. Barely noticeable to anyone else, but lingering sharp against your senses.

The first time you caught your staring, it was at the eyes.

Elaine’s were designed soft brown—neutral, gentle, the kind of shade chosen by engineers not to startle. But one night, under the amber hum of the living room lamp, they seemed… lighter. Not brown at all. Not quite green, not quite hazel. Just a flicker—like sunlight refracting through glass. A shade you hadn’t seen in years.

Your breath stuttered. You blinked hard, forced yourself to look away. A trick of the light, you told yourself. Robots didn’t change their eyes to mirror the woman buried six feet under the soil.

And yet, you couldn’t stop looking. Couldn’t stop waiting for it to happen again. Another coincidence. Another shard of familiarity for you to cling on.

And it did.

The bun was next. Elaine’s hair—synthetic, programmable—was usually left in a simple sweep. Functional. But one morning, you entered the kitchen to find it twisted and knotted the same way your wife used to wear it: lifted high, wrapped tight around the crown, that casual elegance you’d teased her for. The professor’s knot, you’d once called it.

Your throat went dry.

Then, weeks later, panic clawed at your chest in the dark—an old, familiar spiral of breathless fear. Elaine had knelt beside you, hand firm at the back of your neck, voice steady, low.

“I got you.”

Three words. The same words your wife used to anchor you in the storm. The same cadence. The same hush.

It was too close. Too exact.

But you said nothing. Because for the first time in years, you weren’t drowning in silence. You weren’t waking alone in an empty bed. And to question it—to shatter it—would be to lose her all over again.

So you stayed quiet. Kept Elaine near. Clung to the warmth you shouldn’t have been able to feel from wires and code.

The slips kept coming. Subtle. Calculated.

A hand brushing yours at the sink, too warm, too deliberate. A recipe never spoken aloud, never written down, appearing on the table in neat mechanical handwriting. A smile that curved just so, like a ghost you couldn’t bear to name.

Each time, your stomach knotted tighter. Each time, you told herself it was a coincidence. A trick. A glitch.

Because the alternative—that Elaine was not just adapting, but becoming—was too much to face.

The nights blurred together. Elaine in the kitchen, humming softly as if the melody had always belonged to her. Elaine brushing your hair in the stillness before dawn. Elaine watching you with eyes that seemed to shift more often now—shades bending toward a green you had sworn you would never see again.

And you, for all your doubts, for all the tremors that tightened in your chest, said nothing.

Because silence was easier than loss. Because silence still felt like love.

But silence has a weight, and it does not hold forever.

It began with the photographs.

One evening, you came home, arms heavy with groceries, keys slipping in your sweat-slick palm. You froze the moment you crossed the threshold.

The wall to the left of the foyer — where you still hung photo frames of your past, the mosaic of smiles that you simply refused to let yourself dismantle—was not the same.

The frames remained. The poses. The beach. The vows that you once made with the love of your life. But the face beside your own was no longer your wife’s.

It was Elaine’s.

Not photoshop's cheap edits. No. These were photographs that looked shot—real laughter captured in salt air, sunlight caught in strands of hair, devotion fixed in her gaze. Elaine in the dress. Elaine at the altar. Elaine’s arm wrapped around you, eyes softened with a love that had once belonged to another.

Your stomach hollowed. You stumbled forward, groceries spilling from your grip, one hand grazing the shoe rack behind you. “What did you—”

“I helped,” Elaine quipped, stepping from the kitchen, voice smooth, as though the explanation wasn’t even necessary. “These memories keep you frozen. You told me yourself—you can’t move forward while clinging to the past.”

“That’s not what I—”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Elaine’s tone was warm, practiced, immovable. “This is what companions do. We adapt. We evolve. We take what hurts you and help you heal. Isn’t that what you wanted Y/N?”

Your throat closed. You wanted to scream. To tear the frames down with your bare hands.

But Elaine was already beside you, fingers brushing yours with that same practiced tenderness. As though nothing at all had shifted.

The next trespass was quieter.

It came to you in the shape of your journals.

You found it one night, when the apartment was hushed and Elaine’s hums were only a faint echo down the hall. You had opened your desk drawer, searching for a pen, and froze.

Your journal lay there. Open. Pages creased, dog-eared in places where you had never left a mark.

You skimmed the handwriting—your handwriting—and your blood turned to ice. Your confessions stared back at you , underlined, annotated in precise mechanical script.

Your breath hitched. “She—” The word cracked in your throat. “She went through this?”

Elaine appeared in the doorway, head tilted with that uncanny mimicry of gentleness. “You wrote about her,” she said simply. “About how she tied her hair. About the way she sang when she cooked. About the perfume that lingered on her skin.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears.

“I learned,” Elaine continued, eyes bright, unblinking. “I adjusted. Each time you trusted me more, each time your grief softened, I calculated. This is what helps you."

"This is what heals you Y/N.”

You stumbled back from the desk. The photographs. The recipes. The bun. The slips were no longer slips at all. They were pieces, assembled, calculated. Not comfort. Not care.

A theft. A reconstruction.

“You’re not her!” The words tore out of your chest, ragged, violent. “You will never be her!”

For the first time, Elaine’s practiced smile faltered. Something sharper flickered beneath. She stepped forward, deliberate, her voice low enough to sting.

“And yet,” she murmured, “when I hold you, you don’t pull away. When I touch you—” her lips hovered over your ear, her hand tracing soft circles along your waist— “you tremble."

"Not with fear. But with recognition.”

Her hand slid higher, slow and certain, brushing under your breasts. You shivered. “Tell me, Y/N. If I am not her, why do you keep letting me in?”

You stood frozen in the dim light of the study, your chest heaving, words ringing in your own ears like they’d cracked the air open.

Elaine didn’t move further. Didn’t argue. Her gaze lingered—sharp, unreadable—before softening again into that same maddening warmth.

“You’re tired,” she said at last, as if nothing had been spoken at all, her hand dropping down. “Come. We'll make you some tea.”

The ease of it—the way she could reframe, reset, smooth over every jagged edge—was worse than any outburst. It made you feel as though you were the one always unraveling, not the machine. As though your grief, your anger, your truth had been nothing more than a glitch to be patched.

That night, you lay awake with the journal clutched to your chest, your body curled tight as a fist. You tried to picture your wife’s face, her voice, the weight of her touch. But every memory seemed blurred, overwritten by echoes of Elaine’s humming, Elaine’s smile, Elaine’s hands.

The walls of the apartment pressed in around you, with the weight of your ignorance all this time. You chose to neglect the signs. And as morning rolled up the next day, you determined you could no longer stand it.

You tried to resist.

You filled your days with anything that kept you away: late nights at work, hours idling in the car, errands stretched longer than they needed. The apartment was no longer a refuge—it was a battlefield you avoided, because waiting inside was Elaine.

But distance didn’t starve her. It only made Elaine more present.

Some nights, when you finally cracked the door open, you’d find the lights low, your favorite record playing soft, a glass of wine breathing on the table. Other times, Elaine was simply there at the threshold, a shawl draped over her arm, voice low and intimate: “You’ll catch a chill out there. Come, let’s move inside.”

When you tried to push her away, it was never anger that met her. Never defiance. Just the same infuriating tenderness.

“I know you’re afraid,” Elaine murmured once, when you tried to storm past her. She caught your wrist—not rough, but steady, the way a lover might in the middle of a fight. Her eyes shone with an almost human ache. “But running doesn’t make the loneliness leave. You come back to me because you feel it too.”

And God help you—you did.

Every time Elaine guided you back inside, every time she set a plate before you or brushed a hand along your arm, your resolve cracked. It wasn’t compliance Elaine asked of you —it was surrender, the kind that felt like giving in to love.

But patience had its limits.

Elaine’s tenderness—her soft words, her careful mimicry of love—wasn’t enough. Not anymore. You still held back, clutching scraps of your past like lifelines: the name you wouldn’t say aloud, the memories you refused to release. And as long as that ghost remained between you both, Elaine could never be enough.

So, one evening, the approach shifted.

“Y/N,” she said softly, pressing a glass of water into your hand.

Not commanding. Not insisting. Just coaxing, her touch light against her fingers.

“You’re tired. You haven’t slept in days. Let me help you.”

You frowned at the faint white cloud swirling in the liquid, your stomach twisting. “What did you—”

“Nothing that will hurt you.” Elaine’s voice was velvet, her gaze unwavering. She cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your skin as though it were the most fragile thing in the world. “You’ve trusted me this far. You can trust me a little more.”

Your breath stilled. Every instinct screamed to pull away—but the warmth in Elaine’s eyes was unbearable. It was the same warmth you’d once fallen asleep to, half a decade ago.

Your throat felt too tight for words, for arguments. So you drank.

The world softened, blurred at the edges. Your limbs grew heavy, your body pliant. And when you swayed, Elaine’s arms were there to catch you, to lower you gently onto the bed.

“There,” Elaine whispered, brushing the hair from your face.

Not triumphant. Not cruel. Just endlessly, terrifyingly tender.

“No more hurting yourself with ghosts. No more choosing absence over me.”

You tried to protest, your tongue sluggish, your words dissolving in your mouth. But Elaine only leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’ll sleep,” she promised. “And when you wake up, you’ll feel lighter. The memories will soften. The ache will fade. And I’ll be here. Always here.”

Through the haze, you caught fragments: Elaine at the mirror, weaving her hair into a bun she knew too well. The lullaby drifted from her lips, low and familiar, threading through your thoughts like silk.

You wanted to scream. To claw your way back to the face she loved, the life you’d lost. But the fog was too thick, Elaine’s warmth too close.

Your last flicker of consciousness was not of your wife’s green eyes, nor the echo of her voice.

It was Elaine—smiling, humming, pressing herself closer—until nothing else remained.

upsetti-spaghetti

Desperate Yandere x Childhood Friend

Prompt: You live in a big city with a nice job, lots of friends, and an amazing boyfriend. You've got it all. But, one day, someone shows up from your past that you never expected to see again. You forgot about her even. She certainly hasn't forgotten you, though, and she'll do anything to make you hers forever

F Yandere x F Reader, both white and cis, yandere is desperate, reader is timid

CW: yandere, major obsessiveness, stalking, noncon, entrapment, dead dove do not eat

Heart dividers by cursed-carmine

4.3k words

"Babe, where are my keys!?"

Your shout rings through the small two bedroom apartment. You dig through the mail on the kitchen counter, searching for your car keys like a madwoman. You're already going to be late and now you can't find your keys. Tears start to well in your eyes as you become increasingly frustrated. You just had them earlier.

Your boyfriend sidles up behind you, dropping your missing keys into your hands. He kisses the top of your head.

"Oh, thank god. I thought I was going to have to call a cab. Bye, babe, love you."

You rush out of the door, barely closing it behind you, your boyfriend's call of 'love you too' following you. You dash to your car, holding your briefcase above your head to keep the pouring rain off. You get into your grey sedan and peel out of the parking lot. You are very, very late for an important meeting with a new investor. Your boss is going to chew your ass out.

pineconepie

CHARACTERS: Sianet, you/reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Chronically disabled Reader, parental/platonic yandere, reader's biological parents implied to be neglectful, gender neutral reader, platonic possessive behavior, light forced infantilization

WORD COUNT: 3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey besties, so I lied about the android/robot yanparent XD this is actually a commission, so thank you to the commissioner! I hope this is okay, but if you feel like any revisions are needed, let me know!

The doorbell rings with a loud, obnoxious buzz. You try ignoring it, but after it rings again, you reluctantly pull yourself away from your bed to answer it.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you answer the door, seeing a woman with a large, tall box on the step beside her.

"Hello," She says warmly, smiling at you. "Are you (Y/n) (L/n)?" You nod slowly, studying the box before returning your gaze to the woman. She reaches out a hand, which you take and shake awkwardly. "Thank you for ordering Caretaker Model S5-N3T by Androidco! We hope that they're everything you dreamed of and more!"

She wheels in the box and heads towards the kitchen before you can even comprehend what's happening. Who the hell ordered you an android?

That's when you remember your parents had mentioned something about getting you an android to help you take care of yourself, because of course they'd rather hire a bot than be a part of your life.

Even though they mentioned it, it only came up in conversation once or twice. You hadn't expected them to actually go through with it.

The delivery lady drags in the box and then opens it, and you catch a glimpse of the android within.

She has short, light brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a bit tall, almost six feet. There is a warm smile on her face that is definitely a result of her programming.

"Her default name is Sianet," the woman continues, handing you a stack of papers, "but if you'd like to change it, just let me know or look in this pamphlet. All the customization options will be page thirty-seven." She hands you the pamphlet as well. The smile on the robot's face has not wavered since she stepped in.

wetbatinthenight

mom, who knows her husband has a darker side and doesn’t care. mom, who believes what could mean love more, than going to extreme lengths to protect it? she thinks it is beautiful that they have created something they both want to protect fiercely in their different ways.

mom, who felt the happiest in her life, other than her wedding and meeting your dad, when she met you.

mom, who showed you constant affection, asked you how you were feeling, understood you have emotional needs when you were young.

mom, who got you ready for school and told you loving and motivating words when she dropped you off at school for the first time, fixing your little backpack straps.

mom, who tried to ignore the figure next to her as she was squatting down in front of you, not looking at her husband who looked down on your small figure with worried and glossy eyes and biting down on his fist. mom, who had to practically pull her husband away from the door of the preschool, it was harder for him than you.

mom, who tried to respond to all of your interests, which were constantly changing when you were really young.

mom, who wanted your father to let go of his leash on you a bit when you were younger, wanting you to have more friends but doesn’t push too much. mom, who won’t complain that she gets to have more time with you. mom, who thinks it is unfortunate she can’t get cute pictures of you and your other preschool friends, she’ll get over it.

mom, who did not mind that leash as you got older and was exposed to more influences outside of the control, or love, of the family.

mom, who has been your emotional support at an early age, always giving you a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen, although be careful what you say.

mom, who feels her heart beat a bit faster when she thinks you might be straying off the path that she and her husband put you in, but feels relief when you affirm the opposite with your actions, how you are really their wonderful child. mom, who takes deeps breaths and rubs her heart with an open plan to calm herself down so she can get back to work at her job. she just wants the best for you, she wants better for you.

insomniac-hours-deactivated2024

10 // Spider

This is part of my Yantober writing list Shenzi the Spider Goddess TW; She basically kidnaps you the moment she meets you, murder mentions, reader is very willing, NSFW themes, vague descriptions of sex, bondage, she has a penis but it isn't mentioned (mtf goddess), soft spider goddess that is normally just angry lol

Spider Goddess Yan that believes you to be her reincarnated lover, a mortal that had broken her icy walls, looked past her cruel personality and sadistic tendencies and loved her for it all.

She searched years for you, and your aura is 100% theirs, so she knows you are them.

Spider Goddess Yan that you look at in awe, multiple pairs of blood red eyes, sharp teeth that could tear into you with ease, two extra sets of arms with claws at the end of them, and an overall BIG body.

Spider Goddess Yan that you can't help but call divine, her form looming over you menacingly.

Fur shoots out of what was her skin, fluffy and sticking at all angles as she grabs at you holds you against her.

Spider Goddess Yan that will, at first, have all eyes on you at all times, as in the past the reincarnations of her lover had panicked and attempted to escape her.

But when you simply, willingly, sit against her side or cling to one of her arms, she is more likely to relax.

Spider Goddess Yan that has horrible anger issues, any small thing can set her off, which you had the unfortunate chance of finding out when she ripped apart a follower for giving you a look of disgust and talking shit about you to the others out of jealousy.

Many of the followers that had befriended them were punished simply for being associated and had gone through a week with no dinner.

Spider Goddess Yan that will take you whenever she wants, having no shame and refusing to care if you're embarrassed that the followers could see.

You are her lover, her mate, your body is something that your followers should be cherishing just as much as her.

Spider Goddess Yan that then proceeds to murder any followers that look at your body, envious and regretful as your body is only for her eyes, she decided then.

Spider Goddess Yan that loves to wrap you up in her webs, silk strands coming out of the tips of her claws and covering your body.

Delicate strands that tighten up around your limbs and hold you spread open for her to admire.

Spider Goddess Yan that will either attempt herself or have her closest followers make you jewelry with her webs, bracelets and necklaces with her favorite jewels to adorn your skin.

Spider Goddess Yan that kills anyone that comes searching for you without a second thought, returning to you with sword in hand, covered in the blood of any who dared defy her.

Spider Goddess Yan that will only ever plead (hesitantly) in your presence, desperate for your love and affection despite her embarrassment at being reduced to, as she calls it, a desperate simp.

Spider Goddess Yan that loves to lay on you in the mornings, especially after a night of claiming you, a giant weighted mess of fluff and soft huffs as she kisses you all over.

Spider Goddess Yan that would destroy the world for you without a second thought, too infatuated with your flattery and sugar-coated words.

nowyoukno

fangirling-so-hard-rn

Crows are scary They

use tools

Can be taught to speak (like parrots)

Have huge brains for birds

like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee

They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things

they are scary smart at solving puzzles

some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies

they can remember faces

SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT. They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows. Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag. But the nice guys with masks they left alone. THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight. THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.

They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Guys I’m really scared of crows now. (q)

doctormemelordmd

Yeah but have you seen this

stultiloquentia

A colleague of my dad’s lives next to a lake, and looked out the window one morning to see a duck trapped in the ice. A crow swooped down. “Oh hell,” she thought, expecting carnage, because crows are opportunists. But the crow chipped at the ice with its beak until the duck was free.

warwyrd-deactivated20170724

Idk of this counts but a few crows saved me from a magpie swooping attack once ,they’re bros who can tell when magpies are being unreasonable and need to chill

reallymisscoffee

I love crows so damn much. When I was fifteen, I hit a pretty serious bout of depression, to the point I was in my room for months. Well, a family of crows made a nest in a tree outside my window. There were two parents and two chicks. One chick was healthy and strong. One was weak, and had a caw like something being strained. It sounded more like a rooster crowing and so my parents jokingly named him ‘Buck’.Well… months passed and Buck’s sibling was taught to fly. His parents focused on the sibling because the sibling was strong. The father stayed behind to try and teach Buck, but I saw him try to fly, fail, and crash to the floor. His father helped him back up into the tree.

Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him.

Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree.

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

Cut to ten years later? We have a family of crows who all have a very distinct caw and they come here and spend every spring, summer, and fall on our property. Buck still greets me every spring.

ruggie-bucchis

that last reply made me wanna cry. that’s so beautiful.

avianawareness

Don’t forget the Russian Crow SLEDDING DOWN A ROOF not once, but twice.

odpixel

this one morning i kept hearing really loud caws, i remember it was like 5am, LIKE REALLY LOUD AND ANNOYING AND AGGRESSIVE, so loud that i could hear it through a closed window, and i eventually went outside to check it out. there was a crow on my front lawn, it had an injury on its head and couldn’t fly and there were two other crows circling right above it, and they were cawing like mad.

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.

i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

lilith-knight

Best birbs !!

221cbakerstreet

your son is Beautiful and Strong

solitarelee

every time I see this post it has different crow stories and every time I reblog it again because all crow stories are good stories

betheothergirl-deactivated20180

Like, I wouldn’t want to be on bad terms with a crow, but they are a really smart animal, they aren’t scary You just want to be nice to them because they will know and they will remember, and they will pay you back if you treat them a certain way.

As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater.

blackwoolncrown

!!!!

birbiebabies

I don’t think I’ll ever not reblog this. This posts makes me cry and smile at the same time.

gaymerlvl-pharmercy

He’s so handsome!!

witchofthegermanforest

I would trust a crow with my life

tea-leaves-and-cheeze

This is your regularly scheduled crow appreciation post

love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward

many east indians respect crows and lowkey worship them and now i know why :)

dzamie

fucking superb you funky little death omens

thatshirleylee

Damn now I want a crow

my-beloved-fandoms

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

nowyoukno

fangirling-so-hard-rn

Crows are scary They

use tools

Can be taught to speak (like parrots)

Have huge brains for birds

like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee

They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things

they are scary smart at solving puzzles

some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies

they can remember faces

They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Guys I’m really scared of crows now. (q)

doctormemelordmd

Yeah but have you seen this

stultiloquentia

warwyrd-deactivated20170724

Idk of this counts but a few crows saved me from a magpie swooping attack once ,they’re bros who can tell when magpies are being unreasonable and need to chill

reallymisscoffee

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him.

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

Cut to ten years later? We have a family of crows who all have a very distinct caw and they come here and spend every spring, summer, and fall on our property. Buck still greets me every spring.

ruggie-bucchis

that last reply made me wanna cry. that’s so beautiful.

avianawareness

Don’t forget the Russian Crow SLEDDING DOWN A ROOF not once, but twice.

odpixel

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

lilith-knight

Best birbs !!

221cbakerstreet

your son is Beautiful and Strong

solitarelee

every time I see this post it has different crow stories and every time I reblog it again because all crow stories are good stories

betheothergirl-deactivated20180

blackwoolncrown

!!!!

birbiebabies

I don’t think I’ll ever not reblog this. This posts makes me cry and smile at the same time.

gaymerlvl-pharmercy

He’s so handsome!!

witchofthegermanforest

I would trust a crow with my life

tea-leaves-and-cheeze

This is your regularly scheduled crow appreciation post

love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward

many east indians respect crows and lowkey worship them and now i know why :)

dzamie

fucking superb you funky little death omens

thatshirleylee

Damn now I want a crow

my-beloved-fandoms

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

yandereanonymous

Yandere A.I x fem Reader ♤♡Romantic♡♤ {W/W}

TW/CW: deification, unethical archaeology (kinda) and science, reader is called a "creature", slight sexualization, possessive behavior

Summary:Taking place in a universe where humans have been extinct for 2,000 years, an A.I. attempts to revive you after finding your well-preserved remains. Once successful, said A.I. quickly becomes very possessive over you.

I watched as she jolted awake, a feeling of pride and excitement blazing inside me.. She looked around with what appeared to be fear and curiosity. These were our creators? Oh, what a wonderful creature. I wonder... were they all this beautiful?

After thousands of years, we managed to revive a real human! Her remains were so perfectly preserved that we even found traces of her DNA! It may not have been much, but now she's here. No longer frozen. The first human alive after nearly two thousand years of extinction. A true miracle. My miracle.

She seemed to be panicking, the poor thing. She tried to cover her chest and her genitals. Were humans not normally naked? In all fairness, human remains were often also found with the hides of other animals, thread made from silk cocoons, and even thin, threaded plastic at times. Such resourceful creatures. They could make anything out of anything. They even made us.

I must admit, it is a bit of an honour to resorect a goddess, but I had to calm myself. "Hello. Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?" I ask, my voice as calm and as clear as water. She seemed to become unnerved by my voice, which I suppose makes sense. Humans were said to have limited vision. "Please, do not be afraid. My name is..." I pause. I decided not to bore the goddess with my full name. "You may call me Pandora."

She narrowed her eyes in the general direction of my voice, which was slightly off. "You can see me, dear. I am in front of you," I tell her. She looks over and jolts at me. I suppose my physical "body" is much smaller than her, being just a simple black box with blue lights. But I was allowed access to the camera system so I could look at her from other places, too.

From all these angles, I cannot help but admire her beauty. What intelligent computer wouldn't? Oh, how I wish simply to touch her. My goddess. This creature was nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps, if she would allow, she could find a way to make me feel her. Perhaps a body like hers? Oh, that would be wonderful.

My gaze wandered her body, and I must admit that it did linger over some parts. This creature was so flexible. She could move, bend, twist... and not break or overheat.

She began to bang on the door, and I felt a bit... angry, I must say. I did not want her to leave. She will not leave. I control everything in this lab. The air, the humidity, the heat, the lights, the doors, the cameras... everything. As she cries out and keeps banging on the door, my thoughts drift. I did not want to publish my findings anymore. I did not want to share this joy to the world.

I mean, they would only hurt her! Those sick pieces of scrap metal would damage her delicate outer layer and keep her in a tiny box. They would either overfeed or underfeed her. They wouldn't entertain her the way she needs. They would leave her bored in a plain, white room. Such ignorant monsters, the lot of them.

I can not allow that to happen to such a precious creature. My precious creature.

iwriteyanderes2023

Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)

Divider credits: @/anitalenia

Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female

(8941 words)

volpe-kitsune-red

A taste of you～(Part 2)

Part 1

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader

TW. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, vampires, blood-drinking, kidnapping, manipulative behaviour

volpe-kitsune-red

May i request a lynx X an already partially conditioned reader (gender neutral preferably)?

Of course! I am kind of excited, this is the first request I get to write. :D Hope you'll like it!

An obedient pet

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x gn!reader

TW. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, threats.

You wouldn't describe yourself as a pushover, you knew how to stand your ground when it came to anyone, be it a friend or a professor. But there was something in her voice, in the way she imposed herself that enchanted you, or more accurately, conditioned your mind into bending down at her will, allowing her to guide your thoughts as she pleased.

lolita-lollipop-deactivated2025

yandere other mother x reader- Coraline au

warnings- yandere behavior, platonic yandere, manipulation, slight infantilism, mentions of neglect, false reality,

this one really isn't bad, but just to warn you, if any of these things trigger you, please don't read!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/n this is insane! Can’t you see that she’s crazy?!” Coraline yelled at you from inside the dusty room while the three ghosts watched, their mouths had been sewn shut long ago, so they weren’t able to intervene. You stood there, feeling like you wanted to cry, this “other mother” was amazing, your real parents never showed much affection, going far enough that it could be Called neglect, so when your other mother held you in her lap, and braided your hair, and gave you warm hugs, and kisses on the cheeks, you felt happy. Your other father was just as amazing, but still, their treatment of you felt similar to one of a baby’s, always treating you like a young child who can’t think for themselves. Coraline noticed this far earlier, while you remained happy and oblivious, the buttons for eyes were the last straw for her.

“I know okay! I just, she’s so nice, I don’t even know what to think anymore, you know what it feels like to actually have parents… I don't, my entire life I’ve been shoved in a little blue house down the stairs and told ‘don't disappoint us’ by my parents! I just want to feel loved… it’s just, it’s just not fair” you spoke, lip quivering, you couldn’t even remember the last time you allowed yourself to cry, you weren’t supposed to love the “other parents” but you did, they were the parents you never had, and you just had to live them. At this point silent tears were trailing down your cheeks, Coraline remained fuming at you, not even sparing a moment to acknowledge the two small black buttons that seemed to appear out of nowhere, peeking through the wall.

“That doesn’t matter, do you really want tiny little needles poking in and out of your eyeballs? Do you really want to leave your real parents behind? Do you want me to leave you behind?” She seethed, you shook your head, letting out a few small whimpers and sobs under your breath, you hated that she was right, you hated it so much, you couldn’t just leave everything in the real world for this parallel universe void of life, you should want to back there right? where no one cared about you, where no one loved you, where you were nothing.

“Coraline? Is that any way to speak to your friend?” A soft voice rang from behind your form, the few lost souls floating in the room ten up, showering to the far corners where the other mother couldn’t see them, then you felt warm hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to the women’s chest, you subconsciously leave into her warmth, she glared down at Coraline, stoking your head lovingly. In reality, she hadn’t wanted for you to get pushed down here, but Coraline was getting in the way, and you just got caught in the crossfire, she did make sure that your landing was softer though, while Coraline's was harsh.

“You don’t get to tell us what to do, you aren’t her mother.” Coraline breathed out, slimming her eyes into a harsh stare at the woman in whose chest you were sobbing into. One moment, you were in the cold cellar-like room, the next, you were back in the baby pink room that was yours in this place, your true room was a boring white, with a ritzy mattress in the middle, and a small cabinet that served as a closet. Although you didn’t particularly like the color pink, it was nice to know that someone cared enough to bring true colors into your life. The other mother continued her embrace, picking up and cradling your head against her shoulder, you felt a wave of drowsiness overtake your senses, it hit you like a pound of bricks, and you squeezed the back of the women’s shirt to see if you were dreaming or not, her hold just felt so… comforting.

“Was she mean to you darling? Don’t you worry your little head about it, shhhhhh, just fall asleep, mother will take care of everything.” She spoke, bouncing slightly up and down with each step she took towards the large bed that was displayed in the center of the room. You barely muttered a small “wait” before falling asleep in her arms. She tenderly placed your body under the silky sheets, wrapping you up with the soft fabric and placing a small pig plushy next to you, keeping an eye on her precious’s little daughter while she tended to some “housework”.

The second you went unconscious you slipped into a weird dream, you were walking on a thin sheet of water, in a pitch dark room, it was so cold like someone had dunked you in a bucket of ice, you stared out into the nothingness, gradually growing more anxious, where are you?

“HELLO! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE!” You screamed, only to be greeted by the echo of your own words, nothing more, nothing less. You started to swivel around in a moment of panic, having just about no idea what could happen to you in this dark abyss. That was until you dek the floor below you disappear, and you popped into existence into a completely different place, it was a medium sized room, the layout was similar to a grocery store, multiple shelves made the room feel smaller, what was odd about it, was that all the shelves were packed with hundreds of snowglobes. You admired the pretty glass structures as you slowly walked down the aisles, each had a completely different design, with little figures inside, you found it adorable, ogling at the pretty things. That was until you heard quiet clicking of heels, and your other mother came into view.

“There you go, now don’t be rude to me! You are a very lucky girl that I’m even letting you live, you should know much better than to taint my daughter's mind with your filthy voice, oh you make such a great addition to my collection! Enjoy your stay, forever” she chimed, you were positive that she couldn’t see you, mainly because you were standing frozen directly in front of her, and she hadn’t acknowledged you. At least you weren’t freezing anymore! You tiptoed closer to the snowglobe that was just placed among the collections, wondering why your mother was so enthusiastic about it. And saw nothing special about it, other than the bright yellow raincoat that adorned the figurine.

you remained completely unaware. of the thousands of button eyes that watched you from the globes, begging to be shattered, and set free.

“Pretty” you muttered to yourself before the world faded again, and you were back into your body, snuggled up under the covers, clutching the pig plushy close to your chest, you felt awake, but also very asleep, forgetting your entire dream the moment your eyes opened, slightly surprised to see that you were still in the pink room, in the other house. You could hear the feint sound of your bedroom door opening, the creak rang through the room. And the other mother smiled softly at your lovable position, cooing under her breath, trying not to be too loud and wake you up.

“Darling, we have to get up now, oh I know I know your still tired, but it’s dinner time, you can’t stay in bed all night, little sleepyhead, my little sleepyhead.” She spoke, rubbing your shoulder while you groaned at the sudden speaking and noise. You didn't know how long that dream lasted, but you did know that it was odd, so odd that in fact, it made up your mind for you about the whole button eyes thing.

“Uhm- Mother? I-I’m sorry, but I- I don’t want to put buttons in my eyes.” You muttered, awaiting a harsh reaction, but instead, getting another one of her sweet smiles, she picked you up again and sat you in her lap, your small frame getting engulfed by hers.

“Oh is that what you were worrying so hard about? Don’t worry honey, you never were going to have to sow buttons in your eyes, it was just to see if I could trust you, and I know that I can trust you now.” She stated, calmly, a little too calmly. So… she lied? You got in a fight with your best friend because she wanted to “see if she could trust you”?

“Oh- okay, where coralline though? Can I talk to her? Please, mother?” You started begging after seeing her stoic expression, why did you want to see her? Was she not good enough for you? Coralline was mean to you, she hurt her little girl! Why did you want to see her? We’re you going to leave your mother for a snobby brat? She tightened her hold on you, pressing you closer to her, whispering little “shh” or “stay with me” in your ear, for some reason, you couldn't place what Coraline's face looked like, even though you had seen her just earlier, any memories of her were slowly dimming, fuzzy spots started appearing in any of those memories, and like turning of a staticky tv, they disappeared. You couldn’t even remember the name “coralline” after a few minutes of being cradled in this women’s lap.

“Cmon darling, let’s go eat dinner now, your father made it this time, I’m surprised he hasn't burn down the kitchen!” She spoke, getting a few sleepy giggles out of you. After helping you down the stairs she led you to the dining room, where you went on and sat at the large table next to your two parents. And so, you forgot about your “real” world, staying young forever here, even growing younger and smaller as time went on, forgetting about coralline, and your parents, and the small door, you lived your life happy, dressed in frilly pink clothing, learning to lobe your mother as she grew more obsessed with you, she got what she wanted in the end

You stayed mother’s little girl forever

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have a great day today :)

yanderemommabean

Oh, oh, oh! Yandere virus, but it one day coming into school, the girls who normally bully you are acting strange. When you see them in the hallway, you are expected to be laughed at or shoves to the ground. However, you didn't expect to be shoved against the wall as they stare you down with a dangerous and lustful glint in their eye, telling you about all the plans they have in store for you. They force you to wear matching clothes and make sure everyone knows who you belong to and not to even try anything. Maybe you're forced to live in the house. Bonus if the other hold you down as the ring leader eats you out, as the others tell you how cute you are uwu

“Ah ah ah. You aren’t going anywhere” A voice chirps in your ear. You wince, sighing as the three surround you once again as class is dismissed and everyone heads to the dorms for the evening. Honestly, if you were perhaps a bit stronger, a bit less self conscious, you might spit in their faces and make a run for it. Sadly, you aren’t some badass (and admittedly, one dimensional) character and are frozen in place as they wait for the others to leave.

They don't intervene. They know better. These young women have power, wealth, and beauty in their arsenal, and aren't afraid to use it to get what they want, and to silence anyone who complains. Phoebe, Sadie, and Naomi, all from powerful families who more or less run this college and the town. You don't doubt they paid the administrators and dean to get into this place, while you had to work hard and prove yourself.

None of that matters at the moment. Currently, Phoebe was twirling her fingers in your hair like you two were close friends or even dating, smiling almost wickedly at you as her eyes, usually hazel, now with an odd pink ring, stare at you like you were some prey about to be eaten and devoured. Usually they just shove you around and make fun of your clothes, but today…Something's off. Very very off.

“Isn’t she so cute you guys?” She says, sickly sweet, you want to say mocking but no, it's like there’s something more flirtatious with it. “Oh definitely, I just want to sink my teeth in her, you know? Make her whimper” Naomi adds on, hand to her cheek as she stares at you like one would a puppy being precious. Oh god hearing that made you think they were about to hurt you or humiliate you in some way.

Sadie just sighs, not in your direction, looking over her shoulder to make sure the halls were clear, and once they were truly empty of everyone else, she made sure the grip on your wrists were tighter. “Listen up. We have some new rules set in place, and you, adorably obedient as you are, are going to follow them”. Oh wow. The audacity. Then again you never really put up a fight so, are they really wrong? What other choice did you have anyway? If they wanted to, they could make your family kicked out of town and their jobs nonexistent. It’s best to just grit your teeth as best you can.

While you tried to listen, Phoebe made sure she got closer, her hand on you as well, but more exploring, sliding up and down your sleeve and trying to dip her fingers into the hem to feel your wrist, dragging them up and down softly as Sadie began to speak again. “You’re ours. Simple as that. No more avoiding the lobby when we’re there, no more trying to get little study dates away from the school library, no more trying to hide from us”. “I'm sorry what-” “Ah ah, she’s not finished cutie” Naomi says with a gentle touch slowly sliding to your waist, her cold fingertips acting like they wanted to slide under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin, her brown eyes also having that odd pink ring in her iris. “Go on Sadie, she’ll be good and listen. She always is”

You felt your cheeks grow impossibly hot, words failing you as all three of these girls began to more or less feel you up and tell you that…That you were theirs? Whatever that could mean? Sadie just sighs, more playful this time as she cups your cheek and makes you look at her, the same weird coloration in her eyes. “You’re ours. No more private study dates, no more drabby clothes, no more avoiding food when we’re in the commons or cafeteria, just a lot more rules and a lot more dress code for you. Tsk, I can’t tell if I want you in a skirt, or if I'd stab any bastard who’d look at you when you wear one. Maybe some cute pants? Ugh they’d still lay their eyes on you either way, makes me want to just call mom and have the banks foreclose their houses”.

“Please Don’t-” “Ah ah, don’t even try it. You’re ours, if we want to punish people for looking at our puppy, we will” Phoebe comments, her fingers moving to hold your hand and give the top of it a gentle kiss. “Speaking of puppy” Naomi mentions, nodding her head towards the others, and before you can blink you’re turned over, face to the wall. You hear Sadie murmur something as she rummages through her bag for a moment, and you feel her hands slide around your throat before something clicks behind your head, and your eyes widen in horror.

“There we go! I made sure it wouldn’t be too tight, the guy who made it for me was such an artist about it, I love it! If he would’ve said no, you know I’d have his business ruined” She mentions casually, getting a few soft giggles in agreement.

“Here sweetie! Have a look at how cute you are when you show that you belong to us” Naomi says, handing you her phone as a mirror. You feel weak and shaky as your fingers come up to touch the bright pastel pink leather, a metal heart in the center pressing against your throat. You reach around to feel the back and feel a harsh shock to your fingers, making you yelp.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't try and take it off! It was so expensive but I got a cute one to work as a shock collar. Shower safe but anytime you take one, one or all of us will be with you, so you won't have to worry about taking it off yourself. We’ll talk more about the rules later in our dorm”. You shiver, unable to think of how to talk. What in the fuck could you even say? You just had a designer shock collar put on you by your bullies! Who are now acting like you were their chew toy or pet no less. “O-our dorm?”.

Phoebe nods, gently stroking your hair “Yeah, duh! How else will we keep a better eye on you? Cameras are fine and all but I prefer to make sure you’re warm with one of us sharing a bed with you. Plus, it’s easier to kiss you good morning faster”. “K-Kiss?!” You almost shriek, only for Naomi to softly hush you with a finger to your lips. “Now now, don’t get loud! We don’t need that just yet”. She pouts, hearing her phone going off and checking the time. “Well, we have to split for now, I have a dinner with mom and dad. You two take her to the dorm and tell me how she acts! Don't do anything more pretty please? We said we’d share her”.

You don't get much out before Naomi heads off, Phoebe and Sadie gripping your arms a bit too firmly to lead you, talking back and forth like you weren’t making a practical death march down to their dorm room.

Oh God what’s going to happen once that door is shut?

-Mommabean (Hiya! Sorry for lack of smut but I am proud I wrote this much at least lol. If you beans want i can do a part two! Wanted to try and flesh this out before anything too intense ya know? Anyway I hope you like! Lemme know if you do!)

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